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POEMS 

By William McCarty Peck 



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mi 



POEMS 



BY 



William McCarty Peck 







NEW YORK 

THE NEALE PUBLISHING COMPANY 

1915 






Copyright, 1915, by 
THE NEALE PUBLISHING COMPANY 




JUL 28 1915 
©a.A406872 



To My Wife 



CONTENTS 



PAGE 

Foreword 8 

The Battle of Hastings 9 

A Valentine 13 

To Hon. John H. Regan, Our Grand Old Man ... 13 

The Confederate Veterans: Heroes in War and Peace 15 

Cynthia Ann Parker 17 

To A Mocking Bird 20 

Eventide 22 

Virginia 23 

The Pillars of the Hcspcrides 25 

Lewis and Clark, the Explorers 26 

A Feast of Song 27 

The Garden of the Gods 28 

Pike's Peak 29 

The Transvaal' Patriots 30 

Mv Handsome Brother 31 

/ Left You Sad 32 

The Darkest Night 33 

At the Banquet 34 

On the Hill at Handley 36 

Our Battlefields 38 

My Heroine 40 

Our Valentine 42 

Hon. Roger Q. Mills 43 

David L.. Payne 45 

The Commodore 47 

Nowhcr^e to Go 49 

The First Visit of Santa Clans 50 

A Day 51 

The Birdman and the Eagle 52 

To the Knights Templar: Good Knights 53 

A Texan's Greeting to Indiana 54 

Midnight on the Plains 57 

Too High 58 



FOREWORD 

The verses contained in this volume were not 
written with a view to publication in the form 
of a book, but having submitted them to a 
friend, — whose literary attainments are of the 
highest order, and whose taste and judgment no 
one could afford to ignore, — I have been led by 
his encouragement to have them published in 
this form. Apologizing for their imperfections, 
I trust that they contain no sentiments that will 
fail to entertain and to help those who may do 
me the honor to read them. 



POEMS 



THE BATTLE OF HASTINGS 

Oh, who with blood of Saxon in his veins, 
The love of freedom, and the hate of chains, — 
The pride of race that runs through all the years, 
The courage that survives a flood of tears, — 
Can lightly hear the Saxon's mournful story, 
The song of woe, a nation's deathless glory? 
And who can read unmoved of Hastings' day, 
Of wrong triumphant, wrong's triumphant sway. 
When Senlac Hill was crowned with Harold's 

band. 
To die, — or win the cause of Angleland? 

As late he welcomed Norway's savage host. 
Again he stood where duty called him most. 
He swept from Stamford Bridge to Southern 

strand 
With dauntless men who loved their native land ; 
For Rome's dire thunder daunted not his heart, 
The comet's curse but nerved him for his part. 

9 



10 POEMS BY WILLIAM McC. PECK 

On battle hill a god of war he seemed, 

While round him wrath of blue-eyed Saxons 

gleamed, — 
Heroic band, immailed, yet all sustained 
By right in that fierce age when wrong still 

reigned. 

In one brief day, — yet long, alas ! too long 

The bitter memory of its curses throng, — 
The Saxon race had passed beneath the yoke 
Within the shadow, and its great heart broke. 
Oh, who can read those lines that burn with 

wrong, 
Those words that blood and tears have made so 

strong, 
The page that tells us of a nation's death, 
That paints the struggle and expiring breath 
Of Saxon freedom in the seagirt isle. 



t=.^ 



While rieht is crushed and alien foes defile? 



The Norman said a better race came in. 
'Tis false ; no people who have failed to win 
Deserved to more than Harold on that day, — 
The day that Saxon freedom passed away. 
Yet in their death was freedom born anew, 
For God still loved the men the Norman slew; 
Though dead, the people's cause lived on and on ; 
In heart and soul no Saxon's hope was gone ; 
For He at last rebuked the race that won. 



THE BATTLE OF HASTINGS 11 

Though Saxon bled while evils' course was run. 
Yea, knightly men of France, on Hastings field, 
Did ye not win the day by trick and shield? 
Did not heroic Saxon's battle-axe 
Your pride enslave until ye did relax 
Your hate and give the signal of defeat? 
For, beaten, ye did'st basely feign retreat. 
And so did win a victory fairly lost, 
Though counted yours with all the blood it cost? 
And later did not your proud ranks recoil 
When Saxon bowmen pierced ye on your soil? 

Well did proud William boast in savage glee 
That Harold still, though dead, would guard 

the sea; 
Hath not he guarded it from age to age, 
Although the continent might fret, or rage, 
And vex the tide that swept proud Britain's 

shores 
While all the world brought treasure to her 

doors? 
For Saxon glory shone amid thy night, 
And Saxon valor kept her pages bright. 
While Harold's spirit made her children free. 
And lit Columbia's torch of liberty. 



12 POEMS BY WILLIAM McC. PECK 



A VALENTINE 

My Love, I write a love letter; 
For on this day I must unfetter 
Heart-thoughts, holier and better 
Than those that mingle with the strife 
Of common days. My hopes, my life. 
What are these without thee, my wife? 



Love, as in other years I write 
Of love. To thee I come to-night 
With all the joy and all the might 
Of one who loves a Love so true, 
To tell in song my love anew 
And dreams of other days renew. 

Like yon fine star that shines so bright. 
My Love, you give my heart delight ; 
You fill my soul with inward light 
And bless my life with love so dear 
That thoughts of thee, though far or near, 
A balm shall be for every tear. 

My Love, this is my Valentine, — 

The love song from my heart to thine, — 

A greeting to that Love of mine. 

And may you dwell in peace to-night 

Protected by the arm of Right 

And by the angels. Love, good-night. 

Austin, Texas, 



HON. JOHN H. REGAN 13 



TO HON. JOHN H. REGAN, OUR GRAND 

OLD MAN 

M'ay many happy years yet crown thy life 
So nobly given to the common weal, — 

A peaceful life that gave the State no strife, 
That aided wounds of war and hate to heal. 

Thou noblest Roman of them all, so true, — ■ 
Thou people's hope that never failed thy time ; 

Around thee ever pressed the yeoman crew. 
Because thy patient soul was e'er sublime. 

Thy name and fame will guide the people still 
When time and death shall close thine eyes at 
last,— 

As now thy life is spared by God's own will. 

To light the pathway through the storm and blast. 

Then shall our gratitude not follow thee 
To thy retreat, thy rest, — made nobler yet 

By peaceful glory crowning land and sea, — 

Thy home, the shrine where love pays duty's 
debt. 

For there in. peace doth not a grander fame 
Thy brow encircle than the thirst for blood 

Can ever give amid the battle's flame, 

Where human hearts but feed the crimson flood? 



14 POEMS BY WILLIAM McC. PECK 

Thy life of duty, both in peace and war 

Hath its reward, which is by Heaven sent; 

And thou can'st rest secure; thou art the star 
Of peace outshining Mars in our firmament. 

For thou hast been our people's steadfast friend. 
And thou canst wear thy laurels white as snow. 

Nor purple robe nor royal crown could lend 
One jot where Freedom's sons their love bestow. 

We love and greet thee, statesman, patriot, sage! 

Thy history, writ in our hearts, will live 
And shine upon the State's historic page, 

Because for us thy life work thou didst give. 



THE CONFEDERATE VETERANS 15 



THE CONFEDERATE VETERANS: HEROES 
IN WAR AND PEACE 

Heroic men of other Jays, — 
Historic days where memory plays, — 
We siiall not cease in songs of praise 

Your martial deeds to sing; 
For did ye not on bloody helds, 
Whose deathless valor glory yields, 
Then make your breasts your country's shields, — 

Each one a battle-king? 

When valor's final charge was made, — 
And victory crowned your grand crusade 
With garlands that will never fade 

Till time shall be no more, — 
On tented fields, forgetting all. 
Save honor, your hurt country's call 
Ye did obey, to stand or fall 

Amid the battle's roar. 

When cruel strife and flaming war 
Had left the land and flown afar, 
In peace beneath a peaceful star 

Ye did pursue your way; 
Your hands, impelled by honest hearts. 
Renewed their cunning. In the marts 
And fields ye did not forget the arts 

Of war, and peace held sway. 



16 POEMS BY WILLIAM McC. PECK 

Grim-visaged war has blighted lands ; 
Your love of peace triumphant stands. 
The world stood still to see your bands, — 

The days of battle flown, 
Win victories of peace as great 
As those that sealed the battle's fate, 
As those that crowned the days of hate, — 

A glory all thine own. 

We gladly hail the truth, the light, — 
Our faith extends beyond the night, — 
Because ye battled for the Right, 

And Peace doth bless the land. 
Since War's red hand by Peace was stayed 
Behold the progress we have made, — 
The joy for which our people prayed; 

Your glory doth expand. 

We greet you all ; we love you all ! 
Your deeds in war and peace recall 
High ideals. We ne'er shall fall 

If we keep these in mind. 
Come, as in olden days ye came ; 
Come, as ye went to fields of fame 
When light of glory crowned your name, — ■ 

Ye best of human kind! 



CYNTHIA ANN PARKER 



CYNTHIA ANN PARKER 



Cynthia Ann Parker, — whose strange history will ever 
recall the perils of American pioneers, — was captured by 
Comanche Indians in 183G, when nine years old, and was 
l)elieved dead until 1S60, when she was recaptured by Texas 
Rangers in a battle in which Chief Nokona was killed. She 
had become thoroughly Indianized, having forgotten her 
people and the English language ; but she being blue-eyed 
led to her identification as Cynthia Ann Parker, whose cap- 
ture had horrified Texas for more than a generation. In 
her recaptivity, she yearned to rejoin her children and the 
tril)e on the Western plains. She died in 18G3 of a broken 
heart, due to her last captivity, it was said. Quanah Parker, 
the last great chief of the Comanches, who died in 1912, 
was her son. 



The child of joy, a sense of dread 
Disturbed her Christian people fond; 

With blessings on her happy head 

She stood for home's unbroken bond. 

The grandeur of the golden West, 
The promise of the virgin plain ; 

In innocence supremely blest 

Her heart knew neither wrong nor pain. 

Far out beyond at set of sun, 
The Indian band in savage glee 

Was grimly forming one by one — 
Her peril none save God could see. 



18 POEMS BY WILLIA]\I McC. PECK 

As swift as eagle in its flight, 
As sure as death's unerring aim, 

The red man's vengeance came with night 
And she was marked for fate's grim fame. 

Misfortune's arrow pierced her heart, 
And dove-Hke folded she her arms 

In sorrow. New life did impart 

Strange joys, transformed to savage forms. 

Long years of wild, weird hfe erased 

From memory each tender trace 
Of childhood days, and e'en effaced 

The love of home and Saxon race. 

Comanche wigwams were her home, 
Comanche sorrows brought her grief ; 

Nokona's bride she did become. 
And mother of a greater chief. 

Among the bison she would dwell 

And range from mountain to the sea ; 

O'er plain and sunny hazel dell 
In freedom she could wander free. 

Returning to her native land. 
The captive freed, a captive still. 

The freedom of the wild red band 
Her dreams of joy would ever fill. 



CYNTHIA ANN PARKER 19 

Until at last, transformed again, 

Her broken heart and broken soul, — 

The saddest story told till then, — 

Were free at death's untroubled goal. 



20 POE.AIS BY WILLIAM McC. PECK 



__ TO A MOCKING BIRD 

happy bird of song divine ! 

All day that priceless song of thine 
Thou singest, and at night's high noon 

1 hear thy peals of wild delight, — 
Thy love song, — fill the depth of night 
With all the joy of music's boon. 

The night is light if thy song's heard. 
The soul by that glad song is stirred. 
A friend thou art with magic power ; 
Thy golden throat gives tireless praise, 
'Tis warbled far in untaught lays, — ■ 
The glory of the midnight hour ! 

Thou art our Bird of Paradise; 
Thy song is love's own sacrifice; 
Its mystic joy so thrills the soul 
That earth in rapture seems to be, 
And all the world in love with thee, 
Thou herald free of music's goal ! 

The land of song you've made our land. 
What need have we of ruins grand? 
Thy song can make us great and free. 
Blest land that hears thy song aright, — 
That feels its thrill by day and night, 
As thrills the voice of Liberty ! 



TO A MOCKING BIRD 21 

You sing to Heaven, far beyond; 
And midnight stars, whose rays respond 
To grander Hght of Heaven's love, — 
Will fill the great Unknown with song, 
Until the Universe will throng 
In harmony with song Above. 



22 POEMS BY WILLIAM McC. PECK 



EVENTIDE 

Upon the mountain top at eventide 
I gazed across the valley, dark and wide, — 
Across the golden fields of ripening grain 
That waved like restless tides upon the main ; 
And as the patient sun was sinking low, 
When deeper darkness fell on all below, 
I seemed to hear a voice proclaim the night, — 
A voice that thrilled me with its far delight. 
As nature's gladsomeness unto me spoke, 
While over mountain top and valley broke 
Sweet music's spell to bind me to the spot, 
To break the bonds that bound us to our lot, 
And set us free from all the chains of fate. 
From all the doubt and all the fiends of hate 
My heart was then released, my soul was free; 
For every evil seemed at last to flee — 
The earth was Heaven, — Heaven, perfect love 
That lives forever in the land above. 



VIRGINIA S3 



VIRGINIA 

When fair Columbia sailed 
The western shore and hailed 
The distant blue that veiled 

Thy virgin soil, 
Thy sunlit hills afar 
Beneath the western star 
Were then, — as now they are,- 

Thy shield and foil. 

And later came thy sons; 

Then Revolution's 

Men — Thus the story runs, — 

Thy people free. 
So fair Virginia stands 
The gem of all the lands 
With garlands in her hands, — • 

Thy memory. 

Land of the soldier's pride, — 
Land where your heroes died 
On field and riverside 

In days gone by, — 
We love thee, we greet thee, 
By mountain and by sea 
Girt in fair liberty, 

Kissed by the sky. 



24 POE.AIS BY WILLIAM ]\IcC. PECK 

On thy historic shore 
May peace forevermore 
Her richest blessings pour, 

We pray to-day; 
Long may thy glory shine 
In peace, and peace be thine. 
Great thy battle line, — 

We pray, we pray ! 



THE PILLARS OF THE HESPERIDES 25 



THE PILLARS OF THE HESPERIDES 

Our pride must fall before your giant might, 

Ye silent sentries of a vanished age; 

For on your brow, as on more transient page, 

Hath God not writ his curse of endless bli.oht, 

And chained ye to your doom of endless night? 

Yet Time, the architect of doom, doth wage 

His warfare vain against you, and doth gauge 

Your adamantine powers in his flight. 

While golden summers pass and winters go 

On, — on, — ye do not heed the hand of fate 

That ever smites your face with the storm and 

snow. 
For ye, unwrathful, smile and scorn to hate. 
And yet a sea of beauty round doth flow 
In joy, as if to mock thy loveless state. 



26 POEMS BY WILLIAM McC. PECK 



LEWIS AND CLARK, THE EXPLORERS 

Ye dauntless men, ye heroes true, 

Who gave to freedom more than blood 

Or treasure could have hoped to do, 
And did endure the storm and flood ! 

For in the very jaws of fate, — 
Where nature's carnival was held. 

Near nature's heart where fiends of hate 
Did wait upon your steps uncjuelled, — 

O'er land of the untrodden shore, 

O'er land remote by billows pressed, — 

On, on from Eastern seas, ye pour 
In ceaseless search for unfound rest. 

Long kissed in vain by sunset skies,' 

No hand of toil had touched her breast — 

Nor kindred hearts, nor human ties, 
Had ever yet her landscapes blest. 

But ye did bring the jewel peace 

Unto the land ye did explore, — 
A priceless modern Golden Fleece, < 

To dwell at last forevermore. 

Across a century your deeds 

Shine brighter through historic light, — 
A light the world in wonder heeds, — 

In States there builded for the Right. 



A FEAST OF SONG 27 



A FEAST OF SONG 

I heard thee sing in all the joy of youth, 
When artless beauty filled thy life with joy; 
And all the joy of song without alloy 
Poured forth its melting melody of truth. 

I heard thee sing again, and as of yore 
Thy music filled my soul with wild delight; 
I knew that life for thee could bear no blight 
To mock thy song and haunt thee evermore. 

Once more I heard thee sing the old, old song. 

Thy voice fell on my eager, haunted ear 

As it had done before in that far year 

When life was young and love of music strong. 

And while thy music died amid the throng, — 
When all the golden feast of song was gone, — 
I mused upon thy fate, and musing on, 
Forgot thy faded beauty in thy song. 



S8 POEMS BY WILLIAM McC. PECK 



THE GARDEN OF THE GODS 

Alone I stood beneath cathedral towers, — 

Not made with hands, — that seemed to pierce the 

sky: 
Embattled shafts that jeer at and defy 
The hand of time, the elemental powers — 
Grim sentinels that watch the eternal hours 
In silent blindness as each age rolls by, 
Yet mark the fleeting moments as they fly. 
O Earth ! Thou bringest us thy star-like flowers ; 
And hast thou reared these mountains crowned 

with snow 
To pillar Heaven's vault with thy great might? 
Whose hand with matchless cunning did bestow 
On nature's sculpture perfect form and light 
In mockery of life? Alone can know 
The One who dwells aliove these gods in Right. 



PIKE'S PEAK 29 



PIKE'S PEAK 

Thou silent sentinel of ages gone 

Eternal winter on thy towering brow 

Doth mock the flaming glory of the sun. 

Thy proud head, far above thy fellows reared, 

Remorseless in its icy diadem, 

Defiant in the lightning's lurid home, — 

Where storms are born of elemental strife, — 

Beholds unmoved the scene of solitude. 

If thou wert sensate to the throbbing sense 

That thrills the mighty world, whose dome thou art, 

Thou'dst surely feel the swelling paean of praise 

The nation sings in wonder at thy feet. 

Thy pulseless heart of everlasting snow 

Sends forth its healing waters unto all, 

While on thy summit far above the clouds. 

In silence 'neath the stars, thy signal home, 

Feeling the electric shock from the world's heart, 

Responds in celestial language to the earth. 

From creation's dawn thou hast stood, and still 

Thou standest, — matchless ; for before the great 

plains 
Unrolled like an endless scroll, thy summit, — 
Grand, solemn, silent, piercing unto heaven — 
Uprose to witness the morning of the world. 
Colorado Springs, Colo., 



30 POEMS BY WILLIAM McC. PECK 



THE TRANSVAAL PATRIOTS 

Heroic men of that unconquered race, — 
Whose sires fought back the rage of man and sea 
And welcomed ocean when no longer free, — 
Beneath the Southern Cross ye did replace 
Their deathless courage and their Christian race, 
To plant anew the seeds of Liberty. 
Beyond the fated Vaal your trek for ye 
Meant death or freedom, but not to retrace 
Your steps until your loved, your native land, 
Hurled ye along the flaming track of war. 
The God of Battles guide your veteran band ! 
Though every hope should, like a far dim star. 
Now sink in darkness, yet at last His hand 
Your foes will smite through yours, — their plans 
will mar. 



MY HANDSO^IE BROTHER 31 



MY HANDSOME BROTHER 

My brother was a handsome boy, 
And had a dozen sweethearts too, 

While I, too young, knew not the joy 
That boys will evermore pursue. 

A blue-eyed girl, with golden hair. 
Enslaved my boyish heart the while ; 

I thought her good as she was fair, — 
That in her heart there was no guile. 

My stammering tongue the story told 

So ill she only pitied me; 
She said : "Your brother is more bold 

And manly'' ; which was plain to see. 

Poor boy ! God knows it was too true ; 

Yet secret pangs did smite my heart 
Until my hate a burden grew 

For him who played a noble part. 

For, cried he : "Now, Bill, don't be mad, 
ril give her to you any day. 

If it will only make you glad, 

She's yours. But I must go away." 

So when the angels called him hence, 
To join the choir beyond the stars 

The boy was void of all offense — 
My fault alone the memory mars. 



32 POEMS BY WILLIAM McC. PECK 



I LEFT YOU SAD 

I left you sad, and sad was I indeed, 
Because I saw the hand 
Of cruel fate 
Upraised ; but wait, — 
For God can countermand. 

Hope still will linger, — God will still be true, 

Though all beside shall fail; 

Then let us smile, 

For afterwhile 

His hand will lift the veil. 

The eastern sky will gleam with dawning light, 

And night will pass away. 

Though stars unseen 

Shine on, I ween, — 

So hope survives the night. 

I left you sad, and sadness dwells with me; 

But yet, beyond the night 

The sunbeams play 

In endless day, — 

For God will give us Light. 



THE DARKEST NIGHT 33 



THE DARKEST NIGHT 

The sun went down behind a cloud 
As dark as Egypt in her shroud 
Of darkness, — aged, hopeless, proud, 
Historic, laurel-browed. 

At length a star shone through the rent. 
The cloud in fierce turmoil had sent. 
The lightning's fiery bolt that lent 
Its flash in fury spent. 

And then the night ! Ah ! cruel night, — ■ 
That gave to earth no ray of light. 
That gave the heart no joy of Right, 
But only darkness' blight. 

Yet still beyond in grandeur shone 
Heaven's beauty, — infinite, unknown. 
The cloud, like curtain drawn, was blown 
Away — ^God's hand was shown. 



34 POEMS BY WILLIAM McC. PECK 



AT THE BANQUET 

As daylight died came night apace 
With all its joys and all its grace; 
As every day must have its place, 
So every night must daylight chase. 

The day for work, the night for wit, 
When day is done, the lights are lit; 
The stars come out, and owls will flit 
Where shadows fall and shadows sit. 

The lighted hall with splendor shone, 
The tables bloomed with roses blown 
Like earthly stars by angels sown. 
By gentle hands so richly thrown. 

'Twas then we drank the wine so red, 
And heard the wits while breaking bread; 
The toasts we drank, the things we said !- 
Until the wit was almost dead. 



The wine as pure as nectar flowed. 
And wit so rare the gods bestowed 
That those who filled the banquet hall 
Forgot the morning's rosy call, — 



AT THE BANQUET 35 

Forgot that night was dying fast, 
Until the day peeped forth at last. 
It broke the banquet's soulful spell, 
And bade the feasters all farewell. 



36 POEMS BY WILLIAM McC. PECK 



ON THE HILL AT HANDLEY 

I stood upon the hill at Handley town; 
The scene was tame, perchance some one may say ; 
But, somehow, when the golden sun went down, 
The light seemed holy at the close of day. 

I looked across the valley, — old yet new, — 
And saw, or seemed to see, the fading light 
Play hide-and-seek along the distant view: 
The smile of God upon the brow of night. 

I prayed to Heaven at Handley town that eve, — 
The rarest, purest prayer of all my life; 
I saw the sunlight and the shadows weave 
A cloth of gold from elemental strife. 

The storm had passed; the world again at peace, 
The stars shone forth in glory as of yore, — 
Those magic eyes that shone on ancient Greece, 
Yet light no less the West from shore to shore. 

The greatest day of all the days I've known 

Is not to-day, nor yesterday; but way 

Back in my childhood, when to me was shown 

The hand of God that quelled the storm's dismay. 

I stood in silence of the conquered world 

On Handley's hill; the wild, wild scenes replaced 



ON THE HILL AT HANDLEY 87 

By art and labor; yet, like scroll unfurled, — 
A vale of beauty, dimly seen, was traced. 

So with the human heart: its pangs may trace 
The deathless hopes that lived through all the 

years, — 
That fed on faith and lived alone by grace 
Of God throughout the sacred vale of tears. 



38 POEMS BY WILLIAM McC. PECK 



OUR BATTLEFIELDS 

The deeds of war indeed 
My mind will ever heed, 
Although the sword of men 
Should mock the pen. 

M'y heart still dwells on lore 
In words of human gore 
When bloody deeds were done, 
And victory won : 

The bloody, angled spot 
Where passion, fiercely hot, 
Held heroes face to face 
In death's embrace ; 

The hill where brazen Mars, 
Enthroned amid the stars, 
Of earth's embattled braves 
Whose valor saves ; 

To make the sacrifice. 
To bind our country's ties 
With blood that never dies, — 
The battle's prize. 

Yet grief it brings, to view 
The scenes where hearts as true 



OUR BATTLEFIELDS 39 

As God or man e'er knew 
Were tried anew, — 

Yea, tried by every test 
That death has ever blest, 
That life has ever prized 
When realized. 

In joy or stress of life, — 
Beset by din and strife, — 
Our souls will love the deeds 
That freedom needs. 

Keep well the people's trust, 
Guard well the sacred dust 
Inurned on battlefields 
Our country shields. 



40 POEMS BY WILLIAM McC. PECK 



MY HEROINE 

My wife, my heroine. God knows thou art 
My heroine. Hath He not tried and tried thee 
As if by fire in thy life's battle? Yet 
Through all these years of waiting and of woe, 
Though cruel thorns have grown upon thy path 
Where flowers planted by thy gentle hand 
Had thornless grown and bloomed, had God not 

willed 
To try thy noble soul as Christian saints 
Were tried in bloody days of Pagan Rome. 
Calm, patient, faithful, fearing naught save God, 
Thou hast sustained thy load of suffering 
Triumphantly, because love was thy shield. 
Helpless, thy quenchless love hath made thee strong ; 
Nerved by thy invincible innocence, 
Thy feet unfaltering, trod misfortune's way 
As did of old God's children, sorrow-laden. 
Tread the thorny pathway of the Cross. 
For thou hast likewise walked in faith and hope 
Sustained by God's immeasurable love. 
The darkness must and will give way at last; 
Thy prayer that soars to Heaven will be heard ; 
And though the dawn of day, so long delayed, 
May seem denied, yet the golden flush of morn 
Will drive away the clouds that hide our skies. 
And thy pure soul with glory will be filled. 
Doubt not, dear heart; God doth decree it so. 



MY HEROINE 41 

I feel the inspiration of His love, and thou 
Art Mercy's angel unto me. Thy life, 
Blended with mine, hath given faith to me, 
Else I had hopeless been; and thou wilt give 
To our dear Boy thy love, thy trust in God, 
And he will yet be healed by grace of Him 
Who died for all, — whose blood was shed for all. 



42 POEMS BY WILLIAM McC. PECK 



OUR VALENTINE 

Chime on, O gladsome golden bells ! 
How sweet the song thy music tells, 
As we are led along the way- 
Replete with thoughts of childhood's day! 
Like joy of love, on memory's wings 
Thy goodness comes, its blessing brings. 
Oh, happy thought ! thy loving smile 
No earthly power can e'er beguile. 
Though years may pass, and cares increase, 
Hope ever new still brings us peace. 
Each day will teach us how to live ; 
Our darling boy new hope will give. 
Do good for us, — do good for all, — 
Omniscient One, whose name we call! 
Right well we know that in the end 
Each cloud will die, with sunbeam's blend. 
Pray let thy heart and ours be free. 
As God hath given us to see 
Can we not look beyond the night : 
Know God may smite, yet make all Right? 



HON. ROGER Q. MILLS 43 



HON. ROGER Q. MILLS 

To dedicate one's life to truth and God 

In nature's battles with the foes of life, — 

Ambition ne'er will have a nobler aim, — 

The reign of equal laws, the goal of justice 

On earth, perpetual in Paradise. 

In life's unequal conflict, waged from youth to 

age, 
All men can strive for victory of right. 
On battle-fields of war he won renown, 
And, full of honor'd years, in honor sleeps. 
In legislative halls his heart was true; 
His name, historic both in warlike deeds 
And peace, star-like, shines not by borrowed light. 
His magic voice, the crown of eloquence, 
Applause of men, the Tribune of the Free, 
A Cicero of National debate. 

His tongue gave tone to Southern statesmanship. 
Yet not in these his life and death were crowned; 
But rugged honesty was the star that shone 
Resplendent in the life that's gone. 
The great Repubhc, purer for his life, 
At last is consecrated by his death; 
For in his life his patriotic voice 
Rang ever through the State and Nation 
Unmarred by selfishness, unawed by power, 
Sublime in faith and majesty of soul. 
Above the blandishments that serve 



44 POEMS BY WILLIAM McC. PECK 

To mar weak souls, giant-like, he strode 
With steps unfaltering toward truth, — 
And toward God. 

This lesson of his hfe 
Cannot be lost. Above the voice of faction 
An anthem of his praise goes on and on, 
And vain detraction is dumb at his tomb. 
The greatness of his life, — like the breeze 
That sweeps our prairies, — revives our own; 
While we renew our faith in righteousness. 
Reconsecrate our lives to patriotism. 
And on the altar of our country we 
Relight the fires of truth and liberty. 
We face the future nerved by his example, — 
Our future, great beyond our fondest dreams. 
For who will dream of all our coming glory? 
America, the great Republic, 
The land we love, our land of peace to-day, — 
Columbia, Texas and liberty, 
In these may his, — our hopes be realized. 



DAVID L. PAYNE 45 



DAVID L. PAYNE 

I knew Capt. David L. Payne but slightly. When he was 
last removed from the original Oklahoma Territory, he came 
to my office in Texas and talked over his failures and harsh 
treatment, saying: "If I could find a lawyer who has half 
the faith in my cause that I have, I would go into the courts 
again and succeed." At that time he resembled an athlete, 
but, wihin a few weeks, I learned that he was dead. Now 
he is generally known as "the Father of Oklahoma," and one 
of its counties is named for him. Yet, in life, he had "no- 
where to lay his head." — W. M. P. 

Before the builders of the State had dreamed 
Of all the glory of a Commonwealth, 

Upon thy mind the light of truth had beamed : 
A land of homes, a land of peace and health. 

For thou did'st blaze the way through virgin land. 
Among the painted children of the soil; 

Behind thee trusting stood a dauntless band, 
To make the land a garden by their toil. 

Heroic soul ! Thy childlike faith was true ; 

Death came to close thine eyes upon the scene. 
And all seemed lost, — when hope was born anew 

From thy new grave before the grass w^as green. 

'Twas at that time awakening justice came; 

For all the world, — alas ! too late, — 
Had paid a loving tribute to thy name 

In sorrow for thy undeserved fate. 



46 POEMS BY WILLIAM McC. PECK 

Unselfish, brave, and faithful to the end, 
Thy spirit crowns thy unrequited life, 

And with the glory of the State will blend. 
To bless and shield her people from their strife. 

Thou morning star of Statehood's golden- dream; 

Thou herald of her greatness and renown; 
Thou soul of faith, when hope could only gleam 

Beneath the shadow of the Nation's frown, — 

Thy faith and hope, undaunted still by pow'r, 
As true as needle to the pole remained; 

For faith upheld thee in thy darkest hour; 
The boon of freedom in the end was gained. 

1 
Though memory writes thy name in sorrows vale 

Throughout the land that thou didst love so well, 
On sunlit hills thy faith will never fail, — 

Thy spirit ne'er will lose its magic spell. 



THE COMMODORE 47 



THE COMMODORE 



Long years ago, in memory's Summerland, 
While ghost-like sea-gulls curved among the 
waves, 

A boy and girl played on the golden strand, 

And gathered shells all fresh from ocean caves. 

Alone they marched along the pebbled shore, 
And laughed to see the shining tracks they made 

Where ebbing tide had left a mermaids' floor 
Of glittering sand whereon the sunbeams played. 

In silence while she watched he slowly wrote 
Her name in golden letters in the sand, 

And, smiling in her face, he could but note 

The flame that sent a tremor through her hand. 

Beneath her name, with reed for pen, he drew 
In boyish capitals the one word "LOVE" 

That makes the whole world kin, — so old, yet 
new, — • 
That word that binds us to the Throne Above. 

The swelling tide came rolling o'er the beach, 
The golden letters quickly passed away; 

With hand uplifted, and in fervid speech 
Against the sea he vowed to war some day. 



48 POEMS BY WILLIAM McC. PECK 

He vowed that men-of-war at his command 

Would smite the ruthless waves in thundering 
glee; 

The girl stood silent, till she made demand 
That o'er her name no strife must ever be. 

So love o'ercame the call o' the wild sea, 
Because the girl whose name was writ in sand 

Had vowed her sailor boy should ever be 
A commodore on shore, — the peaceful land. 

And now, far from the rushing tide. 

They celebrate the day when war clouds rose, — 
Wlien dreams of battle on the ocean wide 

Were torn by love, because the girl so chose. 



NOWHERE TO GO 49 



NOWHERE TO GO 

Nowhere to go ! Ah, nowhere to go ? 

Yet the great world's before us, you know. 

Nowhere to go; yet perfectly free 

To roam the land or to sail the sea. 

Nothing to see but heaven and earth; 

Nothing to please but a feast of mirth; 

Only the stars to glitter above ; 

Only the hopes that are born of love; 

Only the joy that a pure heart knows. 

And the peace of God its boon bestows. 

Nothing to hear. Not a song is heard. 

But the deathless song of the mocking bird, — 

Until we hear the song of the soul. 

The human voice, burst forth to console. 

With nowhere to go, yet why repine? 

Though this small place should the body confine, 

Yet thought is free, and that soul of thine 

Communicates with the Sold Divine. 



50 POEMS BY WILLIAM McC. PECK 



THE FIRST VISIT OF SANTA CLAUS 

Though dying, Charlie prayed to see 

Dear Santa, — childhood's saint, 
Come o'er the snow-clad hills in glee. 

In robes and sleigh so quaint. 
The wind was howling loud without, 
And snow was falling all about. 

Our darling cried : "Its cold and late ; 

He cannot come to-night!" 
Alas ! it seemed the hand of fate 

Our dear boy's prayer would blight. 
Through all these years that memory dwells ; 
Each Christmas Eve its story tells. 

At midnight's hour the rushing wind 

Was still as summer's eve; 
Behold old Santa, — ever kind, — 

Proclaiming: "Do not grieve. 
I hush the wind, I still the wave; 
I come the dearest boy to save." 

That selfsame night our boy was healed. 

And we were taught to know 
The joy that Santa Claus revealed 

To us long years ago. 
To-night let us our faith renew, 
May all the children's prayers come true. 



A DAY 51 



A DAY 



The walls of night 
Obscure the sight ; 
The stars delight, 
But lend no light. 

At peep of morn 
The sound of horn 
The land will warn 
That day is born. 

The sun at noon 
Will bring its boon 
That fades not soon 
In balmy June. 

At set of sun 
The day is done, 
And night's begun 
]\Iy pretty one. 

The midnight world 
The stars unfurled 
Through space were hurled 
In beauty whirled. 



52 POE^NIS BY WILLIAM McC. PECK 



THE BIRDMAN AND THE EAGLE 

A birdman, sailing o'er the land, 

Beheld an eagle flying near; 
'Twas something new and truly grand 

To see, and each was free from fear. 
The bird of flesh in all his pride. 

The eagle, king of all the air, 
Our bird of freedom, ne'er defied 

For life or death the race seemed fair. 

Invaded thus, the eagle screamed 

Triumphant, ready for the fray ; 
His eye the light of victory beamed, — 

A warrior greedy for his prey. 
Through all the ages he alone 

Had tyrannized the realms of flight; 
Remorseless, pity was unknown 

To him in all the fields of light. 

At length a bird of human kind 

Had crossed his lonely path on high; 
His ancient home must be resigned. 

Or fought for 'neath the jasper sky. 
A deadly combat then ensued 

Between the eagle and his foe. 
The birdman's wings soon quelled the feud,— 

The eagle lay outstretched below. 



TO THE KNIGHTS TEMPLAR 53 



,TO THE KNIGHTS TEMPLAR: GOOD 
KNIGHTS 

They tell us of the knights of old, — 
Crusaders decked in cloth of gold, — 
Of mail-clad men who fought unfair 
In endless war when peace was rare. 
Give me our knights. On freedom's heights, 
In peace they love their fellow-knights. 
Yes, give to me the knight who's true, — 
For Knight of Old give me the New. 

Through age-long night the olden knight 

Was hest his age could do for right; 

'Twere better then his kind of knight 

For out of darkness into light 

Have come our knights, our faithful friends,— 

The best, the noblest God e'er sends. 

The world grows better by their deeds, 

A brighter day their glory speeds. 



54 POEMS BY WILLIAM McC. PECK 



A TEXAN'S GREETING TO INDIANA 



On October 13, 1864, the flag of Terry's Rangers,— the 
famous Texas regiment, — which was lost near Rome, Ga.. 
came into the possession of Indiana troops, and was later 
placed in the capitol at Indianapolis. Efforts were madu 
to bring about the return of the flag in 1898, and the fol- 
lowing lines were sent for publication to the I>idianapolis 
Sentinel, while a resolution was pending before the Indian'i 
Legislature. Later the resolution was adopted, and at the 
State Fair, in Dallas, in 1899, with appropriate ceremonies, 
the flag was returned by the Governor of Indiana to the 
Governor of Texas. 



Hail, hail to thee, dear sovereign State ! 
Forever true, you must be great. 
Let courage prompt thee to be right; 
'Tis grander far than greed of might. 
Unselfish deeds will ever live, 
And martial triumphs never give 
True grandeur unto pride of power, 
A fleeting show, a fleeting hour. 

The flag was lost in 'flames of war. 
When hope died Hke a falling star, — 
While passion held our hearts enslaved. 
We found at last our honor saved. 
'Twas honor's pledge to those who bled, 
To those who died, — our honored dead, — 
Through all the years, through all our tears, 
Since Appomattox quelled all fears. 



TEXAN'S GREETING TO INDIANA 55 

Now peace and hope will come anew. 
Our joy on wings of glory flew 
Across the sea; the Rising Sun, 
Where Spanish rule its race has run. 
The land is free from bonds of hate, 
And is to freedom consecrate. 
We proudly face the world to-day. 
Because the Blue blends with the Gray. 

Fair Cuba's fairer liberty 
Serenely guards the Southern sea, 
Made free by grace of Gray and Blue, — 
For sons of both have died there, too. 
They strive to w^in the prize so dear, — 
The prize comes not to those who fear. 
Columbia's valor conquers all; 
The nation lives, and ne'er must fall. 

'Twas born to make Columbia free. 
That tyrants from our shores should flee ; 
That justice would prevail at last, 
Undo the wrongs that marred the past. 
Columbia's sons from every State 
Will weep because they cams too late 
To hear the battle rage and roar. 
For peace will spread upon our shore. 

The battle flag comes back again 

From heroes to heroic men. 

'Tis but a memory; God be praised! 



56 POEMS BY WILLIAM McC. PECK 

The world knows braver hearts ne'er raised 

Their standard on the battle plain 

Than held it 'mid the fiercest rain 

Of shot and shell the world had known, — ■ 

The war between Columbia's own. 

Around the nation's flag w^e stand, — 
One flag from North to Southern strand. 
We pledge our faith by memories dear, 
With heart and soul, with love sincere. 
By every hope that comes with peace. 
By every joy as joys increase; 
Let come what may, whate'er betide, 
We'll live and die on Glory's side ! 



MIDNIGHT ON THE PLAINS 57 



MIDNIGHT ON THE PLAINS 

Adown the midnight skies in solemn march 
The constellations crowd the Western Gate, 
The zenith far beyond. The fiery hosts 
Now speak to earth in nature's deathless words,- 
Those patient suns that shone on mountain top 
And plain when first creation's morn with light, 
All fresh and new, warmed this revolving globe. 
From out the bosom of the bending heavens 
We seem to hear a harp invisible. 
Doth Lyra's chords, touched by celestial hands, 
Enthrall the soul with music of the spheres? 
The solemn hours with the midnight stars 
L^pon the silent plains may fill the mind 
With thoughts that reach beyond this world. 



58 POEMS BY WILLIAM McC. PECK 



TOO HIGH 

The heaven-lighted sentinels above 
Now beckon us with outstretched, pleading arms 
To God's Infinitude of love and hope, — 
So vast, so deep, so silent, and so far. 
The dim shore of the starlit sea we view. 
And watch the waves roll on, and on, and on, 
To lose themselves far in the great Unknown, 
Like fleeting hopes within the human breast. 
Ye stars, reveal to us your mystic hope, 
And teach us your untaught celestial lore, — ■ 
To read the scrolls unfurled upon the sky, 
The Books of Stars that shine in words of fire ! 
Teach us to read your sacred words aright, 
And feast our souls upon your far delights 
That shine from age to age in fadeless light 
Upon the pages of Eternity. 

We woke as from a dream and still beheld 

The midnight glory shining near and far 

And, filling heaven with its majesty. 

An eagle, seeking vainly for his home 

Upon the dim and distant mountain peak. 

Now spreads his tireless wings athwart the sky. 

His eyes, like other stars, shine through the night, 

Belated, he still seeks to reach his mate, 

While she within her cloud-kissed aerie waits, 

As waits the human heart when hope is gone. 



TOO HIGH 59 



But still the volumes of the stars are spread 
Upon the midnight heavens as before. 
We turn to read their lessons and- their hope. 
Oh, may we find in them a joy above 
The joys of earth, — a joy celestial, 
Where sacred fires blend with the Infinite ! 
Let us but feel as by the touch of love 
Their life-beats thrill and fill the Universe, 
Like some far ocean wave of blissful light 
That beats upon the fair. Immortal shore, 
Where not a beam is lost, nor hope, nor joy, — 
Where endless light of other worlds and stars 
Will mingle with the light and joy of Thee, — 
Where light is All, and where, too, all is Light. 



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